rotten bananas

One day I was joyfully sauntering through a large oak forest. I came to a bridge. Beneath the bridge, I spotted an angry, heartless looking fellow. A fellow that appeared to contain the root of all evil in his very soul. The man seemed disgusted with my presence as he sneered in my direction.

“Be gone from this bridge. This here’s the Wii creek, and can only be crossed by a select few. Your fool heart shall not survive the trip.”

I pondered shortly, then responded, “Poor troll, worry not for my safety, for that concern is mine alone, and concern, I have none.”

The unfortunate looking creature under my foot once again scowled at me and hissed beneath his fogged breath, “Fool.”

I’d like to tell you that I wasn’t frightened, but I cannot. I could not fathom what dangers the troll could be warning me of, but I pressed on. An endless weighted feeling accompanied each step further onto the bridge, until halfway through I felt almost completely stationary. I closed my eyes and pushed with all my might for the last several steps.

As I reached the end, my garb was soaked with perspiration. My feet were blistered, and my head throbbed an unspeakable pain. I dropped to my knees and began sobbing. I cannot attest to whether it was happiness, pain, or fear that I felt at that moment, but I can say that there was a great relief felt when the tears dropped from my eyes. The troll slowly made his way up the embankment towards my powerless form.

He stopped in front of me, the top of his head barely reaching mine as he stood tall and I continued to kneel. Attached to his waste was a small, dirty brown bag, which he removed and held out in front of me. Slowly, he untied the knot around it and peeled back the sides. A great light shine from within the bag, which grew as he opened it further. When the bag was fully agape, he motioned for me to peer inside.

What I saw was a vision that cannot be properly described in any number of words. I will try to sum it up as succinctly as possible. What I saw within that bag was simply, albeit extensively, promotional pens. Hundreds of them! Such a sight never had I seen before, and never have I seen since. At that moment, as my eyes continued to drain of their salty containment, I knew that my tears were not of pain or fear, but of happiness, a happiness such that causes me great pain every day knowing I will never experience again.

What happened after that remains a mystery to me. I woke up in a hospital shortly thereafter, unchanged from my pre-sauntering self, except for one thing. Within my breast pocket there was a small token of my adventure, a gorgeous pen. A promotional pen, transcribed with words that will forever ring true within my mind. I’ll tell you what it said.

It said, ‘rotten bananas’.